Todos los capítulos de The Billionaire’s Unsigned Clause: Secretly Married My Boss: Capítulo 1 - Capítulo 10

Ten minutes later, the sleek black car pulled up near the intersection two blocks down from the high-rise office building. The sky was pitch black and pouring absolute buckets."Here's your stop, Mrs. Washington," Jerome said, pressing the door-unlock button with a smug, razor-sharp grin that practically screamed sabotage.I looked out the window at the torrential downpour, then looked at him. "Where’s the umbrella?"Jerome checked his pristine Rolex, completely unbothered. "Ah. Must have left it in the hallway. You'd better run, Miss June. You wouldn't want to be late for orientation.""You are an absolute asshole," I gasped, horrified."Language, teacher," he smirked, flicking his wrist toward the door. "Out you go."I slammed the car door shut, but not before seeing his insufferable, amused face through the tinted glass as he smoothly pulled away into traffic.Five minutes later, I dragged myself through the sliding glass doors of Washington Enterprises.My hair was plastered to my

"What did you say?" He kicked the snow off his designer boots, unbuttoning his tailored black wool coat with infuriating grace. "Do I look like I wanted this? For your information, I hate the idea of even breathing near your pathetic tomato outfit. You look stupid!"I rolled my eyes. "You know what? Why the hell did you not just tell Anna about your feelings years ago?! See? If you had an ounce of courage back in high school, you wouldn't be this annoying, bitter, and heartbroken right now, acting like the entire world is your personal enemy!"Jerome’s posture went rigid, his jaw clenching until a muscle twitched violently. "Do not bring Anna into this, Alexa.""Oh, I'll bring her up all I want, dragon! You’re taking out your pathetic, unrequited heartbreak on me because you were too scared to compete with a British accent!""I am not taking anything out on you!" he roared, tossing his gloves onto the coffee table. "Now give me the TV remote. I'm checking the financial news.""Over my

Day two started precisely at 7:00 AM, courtesy of an assault on my senses that should have been classified as a Geneva convention violation.I woke up shivering on the torture device she called a sofa, my neck locked in a permanent 45-degree angle from the lumpy throw pillows. But the real crime wasn't the temperature; it was the noise.The smell of crisp bacon, sizzling sausages, and rich fried eggs drifted into the living room, accompanied by the most atrocious, off-key caterwauling known to human history.I dragged myself out from under my coat-blanket and stumbled into the kitchen, my eyes half-glued shut with exhaustion.Standing by the stove in a plush, oversized cream-colored sweater that swallowed her hands and tight black leggings, her hair tied back in a messy, bouncing ponytail, was my lunatic wife.She was aggressively flipping bacon with a spatula, using it like a pop microphone while screaming the lyrics to a song that sounded like a dying cat being dragged through a ble

ALEXA POVI did not expect to wake up to the horrific smell of cremated eggs and incinerated bacon, nor did I expect my fake husband to be standing there brooding like an absolute asshole.Telling me I look like trash and have drool on my face? Please. The moment I finished rescuing breakfast, I marched straight to the bathroom mirror to check. There was nothing. Absolutely nothing. Asshole.I decided to pull myself together, combed out the chaotic bird's nest on my head, washed my face, and applied a little lip balm before heading back into the kitchen. Jerome was sitting at the island counter, eating the eggs and bacon I’d saved, completely silent while staring intently at his phone screen.I tried not to pry, but as I sat down across from him, I caught a glimpse of his screen. He was scrolling through Anna’s Instagram again, letting out a soft, barely audible sigh.Wow. He was truly pathetic. So utterly, hopelessly in love with his best friend’s wife.For a rare moment, the snark d

The next few days were an absolute nightmare of chaotic administrative limbo. Since no sane person was applying for the secretary job after the last three were publicly executed, I was officially trapped as his temp.One afternoon, I finally escaped the 80th-floor warzone and went down to the staff cafeteria for lunch. I was sitting with Julie and a few other administrative girls, finally breathing human air, when a guy from IT walked up to our table.He was wearing his silver nameplate, Harold—and possessed the kind of cheesy, wildly confident flirty smile that belonged in a romantic comedy."Hey, quick question," Harold said, leaning against the edge of the table. "Do you have a map? Because I just keep getting lost in your eyes, and honestly, the IT department doesn't have a budget for search and rescue."It was the most stupid, incredibly cliché line I had ever heard in my life. It was so bad that I completely lost it, bursting into a loud, unrefined fit of laughter that had me cl